


Patience of a Saint

by galaxyostars



Series: The DMC Collection [5]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Body Positivity, DMC Hanami Week, Devil Trigger, F/M, Kissing, Minor panic attack, NSFW, Nero likes tongue, Sex, Sometimes sex doesn't happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyostars/pseuds/galaxyostars
Summary: She was so beautiful, his heart ached. What the hell had he done to deserve this saint, whose fingers were slipping under the back of his shirt to stroke the base of his spine.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Series: The DMC Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1387243
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	Patience of a Saint

**Author's Note:**

> Having my read aloud go through this as part of my editing process was a really entertaining experience, I gotta tell you.
> 
> Happy holiday, everyone! This fic was written for DMC Hanami Week. The prompt was Day Off (date night), but kind of took a life of it's own, and I have no apologies for that.

Nero had whizzed around their home like a handyman on a mission. He had boundless energy – he’d fixed the shelf that had fallen, he’d replaced the blocked pipe under the sink in the ensuite, he replaced the broken door hinge of Julio’s room. Once the smaller things were accomplished around the house, he moved into the garage and began a minor service of the van, replacing oil, checking water – small stuff Nico wasn’t likely to criticise him over. Then, he pulled the Red Queen out of its case, pulled its mechanisms apart, cleaned it all, and put it back together again.

It was like he couldn’t bring himself to sit still for more than five minutes. By the time the sun fell, he had cleaned the house from top to bottom, and performed maintenance on everything Kyrie had sighed about during the week. He was _supposed_ to be relaxing – it was the first day he’d had off in the weeks since Dante and Vergil had returned – but he was _restless_.

His jitters would have been well suited to wrestling with the kids, but Kyrie had pawned them off to Ava for the weekend. This alone time had been great, though no errand or task Kyrie sent him on could curb his enthusiasm.

“Are you okay?”

Nero looked up from his place at the sink. He was draining the water, having washed and dried the plates, cutlery, and pans from dinner. Kyrie hadn’t been able to get a word in edge-wise – Nero had _taken over_ the clean-up. But she stood behind the bench, resting her elbows on the countertop as she observed him with an amused smile.

Everything about her screamed _domesticity_. She was wearing an old knee-length button-up dress she reserved for housework, its once white colour dimmed from overuse. She’d pulled her auburn hair out of its tie over dinner – she brushed her fringe out of her eyes while she watched him dry the sink plug and put it into its small container.

“I just feel really energised,” Nero shrugged.

“Is that normal?”

“Sort of, but… I don’t normally feel _this_ restless,” he crossed his arms over himself. “Consequence of not chasing after demons, I guess. I feel like I could run a few miles without breaking a sweat. I could probably paint a few walls, if you want.”

Kyrie pursed her lips, the corners tightening up into a different _kind_ of amusement, laced with a timid sympathy. “I think you fixed everything there is to fix in the house.”

He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. “I dunno, I think I can knock out the squeak at the top of the staircase…”

His lady giggled, pushing up from the bench to approach him, stepping into his space and encircling her arms around his waist. “No more housework,” she mumbled against his lips, leaning in to nudge her nose against his. He smiled as they kissed, hands resting on her cheeks as he grazed the pad of his thumbs along her skin.

She was so beautiful, his heart _ached_. What the hell had he done to deserve this saint, whose fingers were slipping under the back of his shirt to stroke the base of his spine.

“You know,” she pulled back a little, her nose just a hair’s width away from his, her brown eyes sparkling in the relaxed light. “I asked Ava to take the kids this weekend for a reason…”

Nero chuckled, nervous tension lacing his voice. “I’m guessing housework wasn’t that reason.”

The shake of her head was slow, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She pressed the tip of her tongue to his mouth – and pulled back when he tried to capture it. Kyrie was playing a game – and he _liked_ this game.

Before he knew it, Kyrie had his back pressed against the door of their bedroom while they tried to remove his jacket. She turned the doorknob while still lip-locked with him, causing him to stumble into the room. She laughed after him, following him to the bed. Her fingers snaked under his shirt – he pulled away from her for a moment to pull it over his head and toss it elsewhere. He leaned up as she straddled him – Nero had managed to get his thumb caught in one of the button hoops lining the front of her dress, which resulted in a bit of a laughing fit on Kyrie’s part as he tried to untangle it without stopping the circulation to his thumb.

Finally, his hands ran up her back to toy with her bra strap – but his fingers were untrained, humiliatingly inexperienced. Three little notches on a strap were enough to send immense frustration through him, but Kyrie cut off his growl with the pop of his pants button, palming at him as she unzipped him. She pushed off him long enough for him to rid himself of his pants and pull off her bra, before seating herself on top of him and curling her arms behind his neck.

 _Holy shit_. He loved this woman. He _needed_ this woman. Every dimple, every stretch mark, every gasp of breath – Nero wanted _more_ of her. His pent-up energy made his skin vibrate, bubbling unnaturally in his chest. He couldn’t help sucking at the skin of her neck, cupping the sides of her breasts. Kyrie rolled her hips against his, and his hand clasped at her buttock to hold her against him-

A flash of blue light cracked through the room. Kyrie shuddered in his grasp, a shocked yelp facilitating her jump from his thighs down to his knees. “OH MY-” She swallowed the rest of the curse.

Finally, Nero realised what had happened.

He’d triggered.

He was in his triggered form.

 _Fuck he’s in his triggered form in front of Kyrie._ He recoiled instinctively, but was trapped with Kyrie sitting on his knees. Neither could hear each other properly over the other’s reaction to what happened.

“Kyrie, I’m-”

“Nero what _happened-_!?”

“I don’t know I’m sorry-”

“Are you alright-!?”

“Are you okay-!?”

“ _You’re blue!”_

“I know, I’m sorry-!”

“Your eyes are glowing again and you have _wings_ and you’re _blue-_!”

“Are you okay- did I hurt you-!?”

His breath caught in his throat, and he struggled to suck in more air.

“Enough!” Kyrie exclaimed. “Enough! Stop! Neither of us move, just _stop_.”

Both quietened. Nero trained himself to breathe again, his throat tight with panic. He was stuck – he couldn’t escape – he was demonic and he could _hurt Kyrie_ –

“Just take a breath,” Kyrie huffs, her hands clasping his cheeks. “Just… _calm_.”

 _Easier said than done_. It took every inch of his being to remain in place, to avoid sliding out from under Kyrie and running off down the street. He wasn’t ashamed of this form – he often revelled in it – but this was a side of himself he has tried to protect Kyrie from ever since his arm became disfigured and demonic. Kyrie was pure; she represented love and life in its highest form. For the longest time, he’d never considered his triggered self to safely fit into that.

His chest shuddered with his harsh inhales as Kyrie nuzzled his cheek, her thumbs grazing up the cracks the led to his eyes. It was small, what she was doing, but it was calm, and gentle, and _comforting,_ and _he didn’t deserve her._

Nero’s breathing evened out. Kyrie pressed her lips to the corner of his, and repeated the motion down to his chin, wary of the protruding spikes. It wasn’t sexual by any means; it was a reassurance that she was _here_. She hadn’t run away; she wasn’t fearful of him. With each kiss to his skin, his shoulders became lighter – his anxieties slipped away. Nero turned his head, nose pressed to her forehead. He wanted to reciprocate the action. He trusted her with his life…

Unfortunately, the stupid demonic energy powering his trigger had other plans.

He sought her lips with his own, his teeth grazing her soft skin. Nero’s hips pushed up, grinding against Kyrie. His sharp claws curled around her thighs as he pushed her back to the mattress. It was nice that his anxiety had eased… but it’d melted away into a primal _something_ that he typically used to effortlessly pummel demons. He felt like he had a thirst he hadn’t quenched. Braced over Kyrie, he dragged his tongue across the top of her mouth while he slowly thrust against her, a familiar tension coiling in his stomach-

A sharp pain snapped against his pec — Kyrie had flicked him. He pulled back to see Kyrie cringing a little, that small sympathetic smile from earlier in the kitchen starting at the corner of her lips again. “We are _not_ having sex while you’re like this.”

Nero huffed a small laugh, dropping his head to rest on her chest. He breathed through his nose, taking in every part of _Kyrie_. It wasn’t what he wanted – what his demonic urges had wanted – but it was plenty to have. Despite his sharp breaths brought on by his form, he hadn’t felt this soothed in his life. Kyrie’s fingers trailed up the deep ridges of his shoulders to the back of his neck, gently curling into his hair.

“I guess we know why you were so energised…” Kyrie mumbled, playing with the white strands at the back of his head.

“Yeah…” Nero sighed.

“Does this… _usually_ happen when you’re… you know…”

“What?” he blinked – and Kyrie rubbed her hips up against his again to accent the question. It eventually clicked. “Oh. _No_. Hell no. No. This… this has never happened to me before.”

She _giggled_. “I’m sorry, but you taste like ash.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Nero smiled into her skin. Sexual need aside (because his sex drive being driven by demonic energy was _weird as fuck_ )… this was nice. Just being with her, in this form. Now Kyrie knew _everything_ – there were no secrets anymore. They were both on the same page. He just… wished he had more control over how she’d found out.

She kept idly playing with his longer white hair while he waited for his trigger to edge away, quietly mumbling praises or comments about his body she found interesting or just had questions about. His right arm was back to its ‘original’ self while in this form, and she was about as surprised at that as he’d been – except this time, she noted the blue skin went up his whole arm. The smaller wings of his head, attached almost like a halo, were what had caught her off-guard the most. Gradually, she found the courage to graze her fingers across them.

It took ten minutes – the longest time he’d ever spent in a triggered form – for his body to revert to its human self in the telltale flash of blue light and a recession of energy. The experience left him sapped. He pulled away from Kyrie, thumping onto the bed beside her on his back.

“Your eyes are still glowing,” she commented, slotting herself against his side.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to stave off the wave of exhaustion. “That happens sometimes.”

“…are you sure something didn’t happen today?”

“I’m _positive_ nothing out of the ordinary happened,” he said. “I guess I just… I don’t know. I’ll have to look into it, maybe ask Dante…” Nero sighed, turning his head to her. “I’m really sorry – I think I just… need to sleep, now.”

She chuckled at that, rubbing his chest. “It’s okay. I understand,” she leaned up, pressing a kiss to his chin. “I love you.”

Nero smiled. “Even if I taste like ash?”

Kyrie pressed another kiss to his lips. “Even if you taste like ash.”

With their fingers tangled together on his chest, Nero got the best night’s sleep he’d had in years.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna consider writing Nero asking Dante about this entire experience because honestly I think it's too hysterical an opportunity to miss.


End file.
